


Yes

by calliopoe



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Slash, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 03:19:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5190110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calliopoe/pseuds/calliopoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick Grimshaw can't say no to Harry Styles</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yes

He walked over with a smile. There are smiles that light up rooms. Nick was sure Harry's was the sun that lit up the world. They shook hands briefly, Harry mumbling that it was good to meet him before he was whisked away again. One curl bounced against his temple and he raised a hand to wave at Nick. "Byyyyee," he said. What a child, Nick remembers thinking. 

Nick hadn't expected a call, especially not in the middle of the night from a bright and spry Harry Styles to ask him to go shopping. They'd only just made acquaintances and Nick should have said no. He should have told Harry that he was busy, especially for a scrawny boy who'd just turned eighteen. But he couldn't. He just couldn't say no to the sound of that smile on the other line; he could hear it in Harry's hopeful tone. Nick would have been all right if he'd just said no, if it had only been the once that they'd met and shook hands. He would have just stored Harry's smile in his memory bank and thought fondly on it from time to time, that he'd met the famous Harry Styles once. 

He thinks about that a lot, on nights when Michael is over, sleeping soundly in his bed, all warm with Pig curled up against the bend of his knee. Michael's alright. He's nice and likes to be seen with him. Sometimes, he makes him forget about the existence of Harry Styles, makes him forget about the sun that rises every time Harry's teeth flash their straight row of white. That's alright, too. Nick wants to forget and he manages most of the time, until he gets a text or a call. Never on nights when Michael's there. Harry must have a sixth sense about those things. He's tried to say no to Harry before, like the time when Fiona and Kate wanted to go to the show and asked for Nick to get tickets off of Harry. He'd agreed, albeit reluctantly, because he knew what would happen and it did. 

_Do you want to come, too?_

_I'm a little busy actually._

_Oh._ Disappointment. Here it came....

_Well, it's out last big show hear before, you know...so..._

Nick could have carried on with pretending he'd be too busy. It wasn't a lie. He was a very busy man these days. Between his jobs and home life, he really didn't want to go at all. He didn't want to be in the crowd and harassed by fans who thought he was the devil who split up their precious Larry. He didn't want to have to endure two hours of head splitting screams. Most of all, he didn't want to see Harry's face. It was easier to stay away when he didn't actually have to look at Harry, but he hadn't been able to say no. Saying no to Harry Styles was like disappointing a toddler who wanted ice cream. Harry didn't fall to the ground in a fit, but the look on his face was more than substantial enough to make the most psychotic person in the world feel guilty. 

To top it all off, Harry was wearing Nick's shirt, which Kate had thought was adorable, the pair of them supporting one another. It was no secret that she'd jump on Harry if he ever gave her the chance. He was one of the few men who hadn't ever really seemed interested in her and Nick saw that it drove her mad. That night would have been good, if it weren't for Harry finding Nick as he'd been leaving. Nick had already said good night to Kate and Fiona and had rang for a cab. A few girls hung outside in the lot, waiting for someone to come outside and it wouldn't be Nick. Those birds were ravenous creatures, waiting to claw at his eyes at their first chance. It was better to wait at the side. 

Nick walked past a few very hefty, burly looking men who were carrying heavy stage items. They nodded at him, but said nothing otherwise. He was bent over his phone, texting his cab to come round the side of the arena when long, thin fingers curled around his wrist. He looked up from the phone and saw Harry standing in a doorway. "What-" he started.

"Shut up," Harry told him, glancing down the hall before he hauled Nick in. 

It was just a conference room, with a long table and swivel chairs in blue upholstery. There were large sliding windows on the other side. Harry released Nick as soon as the door clicked shut. He was quiet and he had that look, the one that everyone thought meant he was stupid, but Nick understood as a look of Harry trying to think on what to say. Harry had always been better at writing down his thoughts as he tended to stumble and stutter through his sentences. He was chewing a stick of gum and smelled of his expensive shower gel and spearmint. He'd changed from his Topman shirt into a t-shirt that probably cost more than the Topman shirt. He went to the window and looked out into the lot where the girls had been before. Sometimes, Nick marveled at just how much he'd changed. For one, he'd grown about a foot and had filled out everywhere. He stood with poor posture, but it somehow just added to his rock god appearance. 

When he turned to look at Nick, it wasn't with that sunshine smile. It was with the face he'd adapted over the past couple of years. His brows were furrowed and his lips were tight. He chewed, chewed, chewed on his gum. 

"Well?" Nick prompted. "My cab's going to be here any second, Harry." This could have been translated to _I need to get out of here._

"Why don't you just call them and, like, have them, you know...."

Nick shook his head. "I'm not canceling my cab." He'd learned to speak Harry Styles a long time ago. 

Harry looked out the window again. Nick sighed and pulled his phone from his pocket and sent a text for the cab to stand by. It was a good enough compromise to what Harry wanted without Nick having to fully give in and say yes again. Tentatively, he walks over to Harry. It's always difficult to gauge what sort of mood Harry's in. He could be grinning and be sobbing inside and suddenly snap at someone for no reason, or his brows could be knitted together but his mood could be just as dandy as a lolli. Nick has always been good at deciphering Harry's moods and just then, Harry was broken. 

When Nick got close enough, Harry turned and pulled Nick to him, draping himself over Nick in a cocoon of shower warmth. The heat of his breath curled at Nick's ear. His lips were so close to his neck that Nick had to suppress a shiver as his own arms found their way around Harry's narrow waist. 

"I just need you to, like, stay," Harry said, the words nearly garbled against Nick's skin. 

He should have said no. He should have said he needed to get home. It was the truth. He had to be up early and Pig needed walking. He couldn't be here in a conference room with Harry angsting on his shoulder. But all it took was for Harry's arms to tighten around him and Nick folded like paper. "Alright," he said, patting Harry's back with one hand. 

They didn't get to spend the entire night together. A bodyguard found Harry eventually and the next couple of hours were spent with more people around them than either of them cared for. Harry's fingertips brushed along Nick's from time to time, just to make sure he was still there. They were forced to move from the conference room and, since Nick had chosen to stay, he was made to help pack up for the next city. Another thing that had changed about Harry was just how exhausted he looked. No one his age should look that way. 

It was almost three in the morning by the time they were ready to leave. Harry called for a new cab and paid for it. They said a very brief good bye with the both of them promising to see each other later. Nick still didn't get his smile. He got more smiles from Louis Tomlinson than he did from Harry that night. 

Now Harry's there again and Nick just can't say no. Harry hadn't been there for Alexa's party, but he'd sent over a gift, another silly thing like that ridiculous toilet kettle. Harry had spent a night with Niall, and god only knew where he was on other nights when the hours saw Nick texting with Simon Cowell to clarify something that didn't need to be clarified. 

But Harry has an uncanny way of showing up when Nick needs him and Nick needs him when he arrives home from work. He needs something that isn't Michael, something stronger and more passionate, something to tell him that his work isn't just some cosmic joke or that his thinking that everyone must hate him is stupid. That someone's there and Harry's smiling at him this time. It's bright and sunny. He's there waiting with Pig when Nick gets home late, too late to appreciate Harry's smile very much. He laughs as he stumbles into Harry's arms. 

"I hate you," Nick lies, teasing.

"I hate you more," Harry says. "I always have." 

It's Nick who tightens his arms around Harry this time. It's Nick who needs Harry to stay. "Can you believe tonight?" he asks and feels Harry's lips touch his cheek. Then those lips touch his ear and Nick can't suppress the shiver that marches up his spine. Not this time. 

"I think I'm just fail-"

Harry stops him. His lips aren't at Nick's ear anymore. They're at his mouth, all slow and wet and hot, just like Harry himself. Leave it up to Harry to be lazy with everything and still make it so good that it demands full attention. They don't bother with any pretext, it's all lost in Harry's taste anyway. Now that Nick has shut up, Harry's mouth drops against the hollow of his neck. He sucks a little. Nick lets out a moan. He's awfully _pretty_ like that, Harry thinks. He likes that Nick can't tell him no. He likes that Nick can be counted on in every instance. Nick hates that he can't say no, but he loves it that Harry's cock still says yes. He likes Harry's jealousies and imperfect selfishness. He likes that Harry still can't grow a proper beard, but he tries and he looks monumentally irresistible with his baby fine stubble. Nick can feel it against his skin and lips.

How can he do anything but say yes?

Because, fuck they haven't done this in a long time, not even during Harry's little breaks where he's come round to see him. Harry's better each time and Nick tries not to think about just how he's learned to do _that_ with his tongue while Harry's lips wrap around him when they're in bed. Harry's not even naked yet, but he's so impatient and pretty with lips that were clearly designed for this task. He doesn't let Nick come in his mouth. He doesn't let Nick come until he's inside of him, angling just right so that he's hitting a most torturous spot that sends Nick into sounds that he's sure he's never made before. Oh, and Nick does come with Harry inside of him. Harry doesn't even need to touch him, but Harry does, pulling at Nick's tip tightly, pressing into him deeper somehow to milk him for all he's worth. 

There's that smile again, full dimpled and almost cruel in its beauty, framed by curls and eyes that seem electric. Nick's legs are parted like a whore's and Harry loves it. Anyone could tell, if not just by the way he's pulsing his own climax inside of Nick and panting, covered in a sweet sheen of sweat. Nick wants to devour him.

They stay like that for a few minutes while Harry catches his breath. Nick's own fluids are drying on his skin and it's disgusting, but he doesn't care. Finally, Harry rolls off of him and Nick feels the ache of losing the fullness that only comes from being fucked properly by Harry Styles. His hip joints ache. His arms ache. He's not that young anymore and Harry's still looking at him, quite chuffed. Nick rolls his eyes and groans as he brings his legs together again and rubs at the knot in his right hip. 

"Can I stay here for a few days?" Harry asks. 

That one's an easy yes. Nick's response is to shove Harry and get up for a post sex leak. Harry already knows he can stay. Harry knows that everything is a yes, and if it's not, then it will be and all he needs to do is be a little patient. When Nick comes back into the room, Harry is curled up with Pig, already asleep. Nick sighs and gets into bed, stretching out his sore limbs. He moves hair from Harry's cheek and sees a dimple form. 

"Do you love me?" Harry asks.

Nick stares at him. That one's not so easy, but Nick already knows what he'll say. 

"Yes," he answers. Harry smiles like the sun.


End file.
